


Two-Step Waltz

by Lauren (notalwaysweak)



Series: Consanguinity [1]
Category: Big Bang Theory
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, F/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-14
Updated: 2012-11-14
Packaged: 2017-11-18 15:36:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/562637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalwaysweak/pseuds/Lauren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missy's going on a date and needs to practice her dancing... and her kissing, just in case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two-Step Waltz

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I'm outing myself on this one. Originally written for the BBT Kink Meme in February 2011. Posting now because I had this stupid urge to see what kind of reviews it gets when it's written by me as opposed to written by anon.
> 
> Big Bang Theory characters belong to Chuck Lorre and Bill Prady; I am making no money from this work of fan fiction.
> 
> * * *

Sheldon knew Missy was standing behind him before she said anything. Some people might have referred to it as twin-twin telepathy or some such nonsense, but in reality it was just because she'd overdone the perfume that she'd sneaked from their mom's dresser; he'd been able to smell her before she even entered his room.

"What do you want?"

"How'd you even know I was here?"

"I could smell you."

"Oh, great." Missy's voice held a note of panic. Sheldon was awful at identifying emotions, everyone told him so, but he was close enough to his sister to know when she was worried. "I knew I'd overdo it."

"Why are you wearing perfume anyway?"

"Shelly, I have a _date_ tonight. I can't believe you forgot."

Sheldon turned to face her. "I did _not_ forget, as you very well know I can't, Melissa Rose. I merely had more important things to think about."

Missy flapped one hand dismissively. "Whatever. How do I look?"

She was wearing a blue dress with puffed sleeves and a modest neckline. The hem stopped demurely just below her knees, which Sheldon knew were still scabbed from the fall she'd taken off her trail bike two days previously. She wore flesh-coloured stockings and black low-heeled shoes, and her hair was twisted up in a clumsily made chignon. She'd overdone her makeup as well as her perfume, but then she always did.

"You look like a fifteen and a half year old who's going on her first date," he answered honestly.

Her lips quirked into a nervous smile. "Thanks, Shelly. You always know just what to say."

"You lie terribly."

"...again, you always know just what to say. Would you get up for a minute?"

"Exactly a minute?"

Missy rolled her eyes, grabbed his arm, and dragged him to his feet. They were still of a height, the two of them: both of them had some growing yet to do.

"Can you help me remember the way that two-step waltz goes?"

"I hardly think you're going to need to know a two-step waltz in order to have dinner and a movie with some yokel with hay in his hair."

Missy just snorted derisively and pulled him closer. Their bodies fit together the way they had in the womb, the way they had when they shared a bed when they were younger and thunder cracked the sky open and drove Missy into his arms, the way they did whenever he held her as their parents shouted and threw things, trying to comfort her even though he didn't know how to do so very well.

They swayed together in perfect rhythm borne of endless lessons neither of them had wanted to attend, their music the shrilling of cicadas from outside carried to them on the summer breeze that did little to cool either of them in the constant baking heat.

"Shelly..."

"What now?"

"You know I've never kissed a boy, right?"

"I should certainly hope you haven't."

"What if Doug tries?"

"Tell him you're saving yourself for marriage and he'll burn in eternal hellfire if his lips get anywhere near yours."

Missy snorted laughter, her body shaking. "You sound like Mom."

"That was the general idea."

They circled around, Missy's heels clicking on the wooden floor, Sheldon's bare feet almost soundless. "I don't need you to sound like Mom or Dad, I need you to sound like a _boy_."

"I'm not sure I can manage that."

" _Shelly_."

The silence was lazy and intimate between them. He didn't answer her for the longest time, letting his feet move them through the familiar patterns. Her brown hair looked, in the sunlight, like it was spun from burnished gold. She was growing up, all right. His mind was years ahead of his body but her body was years ahead of her mind.

"Do it, why not?" he said at last. "You're smart enough not to get into trouble, aren't you?"

"Good to know I'm smart enough for _something_."

Sheldon held her tighter for a moment. "You're not dumb, Missy."

"Yeah, but I'm not you. I'm not the one going off to Germany to _teach_ , damn it. You'll do that and I'll still be here listening to _them_." She tilted her head in the direction of the kitchen. At the moment the only sound from that direction was their mother singing a Shania Twain song off-key.

"You'll figure it out. You always do."

She looked at him for a long moment, her summer-sky eyes contemplative. The hand on the back of his neck tightened.  
  
"I always do,' she echoed, and then her lips were pressing against his, warm and a little sticky with excessive lipstick. The world stopped turning around them. She parted her lips a little, caught his lower lip between hers and flicked it with her tongue. Sheldon felt rather than heard the surprised sound that he made in the back of his throat.  
  
"Missy," he murmured when she backed off, eyes wide and wary, "what the hell was that?"  
  
She shrugged, all her incipient grace lost in one awkward movement. "I can't exactly go to Mom or Dad about that either, can I?"  
  
"Yes, but you're not supposed to go to your  _brother_ \--"  
  
"Oh, Shelly." She looked exasperated and young and beautiful all at once. "It's just  _practice_."  
  
Her mouth sought his again, and he didn't push her away, just let her test her lips and tongue against his, his own inexperience a mirror to hers. Already, though, he could tell that this was one area where she would excel over him.  
  
Finally she let him go, stepping out of the embrace and yanking a tissue out of the box on the desk to wipe the smear of pink from his lips. Sheldon sat back down hastily to avoid a repeat of the experience.  
  
"Have a nice date."  
  
"Sure. Don't blow anything up." And she was gone, dress swishing, grace regained, while Sheldon lowered his head to his folded arms on the desk and tried to wish away the wet spot on the front of his pants.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Pas de Deux](https://archiveofourown.org/works/562647) by [Lauren (notalwaysweak)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalwaysweak/pseuds/Lauren)




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